


From The Outside

by slrandomperson



Category: Bandom, Black Cards, Fall Out Boy, Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Andy Hurley narrates the whole thing, Canon, Canon Compliant, I guess it's an obscure concept?, Just kinda mentions some stuff?, Like one sentence of Ryden so you're welcome, M/M, No Smut, Patrick is cute and shy in his own way but we all love him, Pete's weird but I guess that means it's accurate, Pretty much just my version of what happened from beginning to end, outsider's POV
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-27
Updated: 2018-06-27
Packaged: 2019-05-29 02:51:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15063395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slrandomperson/pseuds/slrandomperson
Summary: Andy Hurley has been suspicious of them from day one. He's noticed things that they think he doesn't notice, he's seen things that not even Pete or Patrick could see. He knows that something is going on, but he also knows that Pete and Patrick don't.ORAndy narrates the story of his stupid friends circling each other for seventeen years as Joe makes snarky comments.





	From The Outside

**Author's Note:**

> ⋙⋙ means next era.
> 
> Now, I know that not everything that happens with FOB revolves around some Peterick conspiracy, but it's fun to imagine, isn't it? We like to pretend here on AO3.
> 
> I hope you enjoy ;)

It wasn't always this way. When the band started out, it was Those Two Kids plus The Emo and Andy fucking Hurley. Andrew _fucking_ Hurley, the legend himself. Sure, Pete had cooked up quite a reputation among the underground punks, but Andy was the guy everyone was calling. Any band was lucky to have him, guys would kick their own brother out if it meant Andy would drum for them, he would go to an obscure venue for a small show and they'd all know his name.

Compare that to now, when it's Pete "Ex-Emo" Wentz, multi-talented Patrick Stump and The Help. Andy and Joe were the outsiders, the ones nobody knew, the ones seldom interviewed or recognized on the streets. But to be completely honest, Andy couldn't care less. As long as he was having a good time and had enough cash to last until next week (he had enough to last until next century), he was fine. Even if he did give a shit, he would be too distracted by the hidden drama within their little walls to be a bitch about it anyway.

It started as soon as Andy arrived, even before that, actually. According to Joe, he brought Pete to Patrick's house in the Summer of 2001, and the kid opened the door in an argyle sweater (the exact details of which had been described by Pete numerous times). Joe said the meeting was "awkward for Patrick, amusing for Pete, weird for me." At the first meeting the four of them all had together, Andy saw how Pete and Patrick made a point of sitting on the opposite ends of the room from each other. It wasn't like they necessarily hated one another, more so that Patrick was mildly irritated by Pete and the latter just didn't want to piss him off.

On the drive to one of their very first gigs, Andy remembered Joe pulling his van into a gas station. Patrick was asked to fill up the gas tank, so Pete immediately volunteered to go with him. With an eye roll, Patrick hopped out of the van and shut the door behind Pete. Joe just smiled and shook his head, drumming his fingers against the wheel. Andy cracked the window open to monitor what was going on outside, knowing all too well about Patrick's notorious temper.

Pete leaned against the van and grinned as Patrick stuck the gas pump into the slot. "I like your voice."

"That _is_ why you gave the job to me."

"I know, I'm so smart, aren't I?"

Patrick folded his arms across his chest defensively. "Listen, Pete, I really do appreciate you being the frontman. Thank you for giving me something to hide behind. But that doesn't mean I owe you anything; I didn't ask for it."

Pete smiled. "I know you didn't, but since I'm such a good friend that I knew what you needed before you even did, I should get something in return."

"No kinky sex things."

"So just regular sex things, then?"

Patrick glared at him and pulled the gas pump out of its slot. "I know that you're just fucking with me, but it's kind of pissing me off, so if you could shut up I'd like that much better."

"Well, I'm not fucking with you yet, but I'd really like to be."

Andy heard a loud crashing noise as the whole van lurched to the side, and on instinct he flung the door open to see Patrick choking Pete against the van with the gas pump. Pete was grabbing at the pump, coughing as Patrick glared into his eyes with a red hot fury that Andy knew meant he'd go too far if nobody intervened.

"Patrick, what the fuck?" Andy ripped the gas pump from Patrick's grip, holding it out of the kid's reach. Pete gasped for air, doubling over and rubbing his neck.

Patrick just stepped backward, staring at Pete with a horrified expression. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, holy crap I'm sorry, I didn't mean to—"

"'Trick, man, it's fine. I'm sorry, I deserved it," Pete said, voice hoarse from almost choking to death. "I shouldn't have provoked you."

"No, I literally just tried to kill you."

Pete coughed and stood up straight, placing a hand on Patrick's shoulder. "It's fine. I won't hold it against you."

They were just smiling now, staring into each other's eyes like they were on a date or something. Andy stood there awkwardly. "Maybe, um, you guys should go in and pay."

Patrick was the first to snap out of his trance, turning to Andy and nodding. "Yeah, I'll go. Anybody got cash?"

"I'll go with," Pete said quickly, jumping at the chance. "Come on." He and Patrick walked side-by-side to the entrance of the gas station, and Andy waited to make sure Patrick didn't try to murder Pete again. They looked happy, though, as Pete said something and Patrick grinned sheepishly, bumping Pete's shoulder and flushing red.

⋙⋙

They recorded their second record in a professional studio and released it on a professional platform and did all sorts of professional shit. But Andy will never forget those times in the studio when Pete would be so fucking pissed at Patrick because he wasn't conveying the emotions the way he wanted so Pete'd go in the booth and scream as much as he could and they recorded it and they used it. They used it because that's what Pete wanted, that was his intention from the moment he opened his mouth. Patrick cringed every time they listened to Saturday because it was too loud for him and he had just become an adult but he still acted like a child.

"Pete, if we're gonna release this record you have to promise me that you won't scream in my ear if we get a live gig."

"Aw, 'Tricky's afraid of me. That's adorable."

"I just don't want my fucking eardrums to burst before I die."

In 2003, they went on a tour of sorts. It certainly wasn't like any tour Andy had ever been on, but it was fun and they all had a chance to grow closer as a band. It was the first time Andy could rely on being in a band as his source of income; he could finally live off of what he loved doing.

Patrick and Pete fought a lot in the beginning, mostly about Pete never being around because he was off fucking in the bathroom. It was true; he did show up late a handful of times, but while onstage he was an amazing frontman (average bassist; he got so much better as time went on). There was one fight that Andy wasn't entirely clear on, something about Patrick "always needing to hide like a pussy" and Pete "always needing to hide _in_ a pussy." Andy and Joe tried not to laugh when Pete was rendered speechless by the last comment. It was resolved when Pete gave Patrick a little hat to cover his eyes and an overdramatic yet somehow underwhelming apology.

After that last fight, it seemed like things were good. The end of the tour brought tears from the younger half of the band and promises that it's not over yet from the older half. Andy hoped that they would continue, but he knew how these bands usually went: a record, the tour, then the breakup. Andy once heard someone say that the hardest time for a band was in between the first and second CDs, and that if you can get through that, you can get through almost anything. The same guy also said in-band relationships were a very, very, very bad idea.

⋙⋙

Anyway, in 2005 they had two radio hits and less fighting than before, and Andy was proved wrong. Also, Pete had made new friends in the form of four teenage boys trying to make their shitty but 'has-potential' music into good music. Pete immediately took a liking to Ryan, and Andy would always see them off talking and giggling in a corner while Brendon and Patrick sulked together on the opposite side of the room. Every time Ryan would talk to Patrick, the latter would get this look of contempt on his face and Andy knew that Patrick hated his guts. That's where stealing somebody else's suddenly-best-friend will get you.

Once again, the studio proved significant in the story of their careers. This time, Patrick helped Pete decide what to say when and how to scream it and in which octave. When they recorded Get Busy Living (etc., etc.), they had Pete and Patrick in the booth together, using separate mics but facing each other. It provided a cool, fluid effect that just made mixing easier.

But Andy and Joe exchanged a few glances, which you can interpret in any way you'd like, when Pete was finally satisfied but decided to try something new.

"Lunchbox, you know in Sudden Impact when Harry says, 'Go ahead, make my day'? Yeah, well, I'm him and you're the perp holding a gun to Loretta's head, except Loretta is this song. You get me?"

"Uh...No, I really don't."

Pete sighed. "We have the opportunity to make this song fucking fantastic, or completely destroy it depending on how this goes. You wanna' chance it?"

Patrick raised an eyebrow. "Sure..?"

"Sweet. You're gonna' scream."

"What? No fuckin' way."

"Come on, at least one word. Please!"

Long story short, Pete convinced Patrick to scream a little bit on "matters," and Andy said nothing about anything. He and Joe just sat in silence as Patrick nervously stepped into the booth once again with Pete.

They did one take, and Pete's eyes were wide as he carefully took off his headphones, gently setting them down on the table. He stared at Patrick with an intense expression that Andy couldn't place.

"What?" Patrick asked, face flushing.

Pete wrapped him in a hug without warning, squeezing his eyes shut as Patrick gingerly hugged back. Andy just rolled his eyes.

"Pete, are you okay?" Patrick asked, still hanging on to him.

"That was fucking gorgeous. You're an angel, you're literally perfect, Jesus Christ I'm melting. It's like fuckin' Titanic if Rose and Jack both made it."

Patrick laughed, pulling away. "That doesn't make sense."

"When have I ever?"

In other news, Andy did think Pete's lyrics ("kisses on the necks of best friends," "sleeping for the wrong team," etc.) were a little weird, but he didn't question it. From his place on the stage, however, he could see everything, including one time during the cover of Mr. Brightside when Pete kissed Patrick as usual, but he also grabbed the poor guy's ass. Patrick didn't falter, however, and the crowd couldn't see. Andy hit Pete over the head with a drumstick after the show.

When they thought they were alone, or sometimes even when they knew they weren't, Andy would hear Pete telling Patrick that he's "the last of a dying breed," or something cheesy like that. Andy wasn't sure what that really meant, but he knew it made Patrick roll his eyes and make fun of Pete for being a dork. Pete would just grin at him because at least he got his point across; the outcome didn't really matter.

There were times during interviews where Pete would be talking about how Patrick was his best friend and the guy was his whole world and meeting him was the best thing to ever happen. The kissing and the groping and overall inappropriate displays of affection were to be expected from Pete. He was weird and he liked touching; these were things Andy knew long before he even met him. But talking about it, saying how much he cared for someone, that was unlike Pete. He was an all-physical, no-strings kind of guy. This seemed to be a lot of strings, even for a best friendship.

⋙⋙

During Warped of '06, Andy tried his best to stay out of everyone's way. He pretended not to see Pete disappearing with Mikey from My Chem, he pretended not to care that Pete wasn't ever around anymore, and he pretended not to notice the way Patrick looked at Mikey. He was an alright kid, a good kid, but Patrick looked like he wanted to rip his head off and bisect his fucking brain with a machete.

Patrick could often be found in the corner on his laptop, scrolling through Pete's blog and reading entries that Andy could only assume were about Mikey. He wasn't one to judge, and it wasn't all that surprising, since Pete was a pretty sexually ambiguous guy. He had mentioned numerous times that he was "gay above the waist," but that phrase didn't breach the surface and make its way to the public eye until later.

Pete could often not be found.

But then Warped Tour was over, and the Summer of Like came to an end. Andy saw Pete's reddish eyes as they all parted ways. Mikey lingered for a bit to give him one final hug, and Patrick looked like he wanted to commit suicide. Andy wanted to laugh, since he understood jealousy between best friends. Something in the back of his mind told him _not_ to laugh, since he most certainly did not understand _this_ kind of jealousy.

They had a Secret Santa for Christmas of that year. Andy got Patrick's name, but Pete had Joe so he made Andy switch. When Christmas Day came, Patrick carefully tore off the shitty wrapping paper and pulled a hat out of the box. Andy was surprised to see _PS + PW_ Sharpied on the front, but he was even more surprised when Patrick stared down at the hat and then back up at Pete with an awed look, wrapping him in a tight hug. Pete closed his eyes and grinned as Patrick whispered something in his ear and pressed a small box into his palm. Andy didn't get to see what was in the box.

Infinity On High was their biggest record so far, and Andy felt like he had officially made it. They were on the cover of Rolling Stone for god's sake; that was all the confirmation Andy needed. Also, as a bonus to that, he and Joe would exchange glances during the photoshoot because they saw the way Patrick blushed as a shirtless Pete pressed into his side. In fact, it seemed that, recently, anything Pete did made Patrick blush. Sure, he was acting overtly sexual and being a cock tease, but he would flash his white smile anywhere near Patrick's general vicinity and the kid would go beet red. Pete noticed, obviously, but instead of asking about it he'd just try to find new ways to make it happen.

What Andy thought was exceptionally weird was that Pete started buying hoodies and pants that were a little bit too big for him, but he'd still wear them for days in a row, almost like he was burning his scent into them. Then, the clothing would mysteriously disappear for a while, but then Andy would see it show up on Patrick's body weeks afterward. They never said anything about it.

Putting aside the obvious lyrics indicating that Pete may or may not have a crush on someone that was definitely not Ashlee Simpson (Andy felt like an idiot for not knowing who at the time), as well as the bonus track literally titled Gay Is Not A Synonym For Shitty, more clues laid within a few hours of footage documenting their antics in Phoenix.

Regarding the show itself, Andy saw the whole thing twice (he was there, after all), but it was only the second time around that he saw just how much Pete was really going after Patrick. He'd come up next to the singer and he would touch him and frown when Patrick walked away; it was truly a pitiful sight. Patrick didn't seem to be interested in fucking around. It wasn't until Folie that Andy realized Pete wasn't fucking around.

⋙⋙

It started when Pete got married. Patrick was his best man, but Andy would see them huddled in the corner together pretty much any time Pete wasn't required to be with Ashlee. And then the interviews would happen, and people would ask what it's like to be married, and Pete would literally say, "Nothing's really different, actually." What the hell is that supposed to mean?

The music video for What A Catch, Donnie was what set off the chain reaction of realizations in both Andy and Joe, the former assumed. Pete was kind of a control freak when it came to the band, but nobody else ever had any ideas for anything, so Pete was allowed to do whatever he wanted. Of course, that meant that this music video had to be different because this song was special, this song was from Patrick's point of view (much like the majority of Folie), it was Pete trying to get inside of his best friend's mind. Whether or not that attempt was successful remained between the two of them, but Andy didn't really think it mattered, since the video itself was enough to show how Pete was feeling about their situation. You know, the new "them" with a whole different connotation than "them" in reference to the band as a whole. Patrick and Pete had their own "them" at this point.

Pete always micromanaged the directors. Joe would say, "We brought [insert current director here] in for the name on the Wikipedia page; Pete's the real director." But this time, Pete wrote up a whole storyline for this character Patrick was playing, and throughout the video it was just a compilation of Patrick being a good person, and then everyone they'd ever known and made friends with appeared for the party to end all parties, but Pete was nowhere in sight. He declared the video the most perfect project he had ever worked on, wouldn't answer questions about it, and that was that. Andy knew Pete had probably told Patrick why he didn't want to be in the video, in those quiet hours of the night that only they were awake to see and allowed to share with each other.

Then Pete and Patrick were back to fighting almost every day. The fans hated them, they hated each other, and they hated themselves. It was time for a break, obviously. But Andy had known Pete for almost a decade, and he knew what Pete was like when he felt guilty. He overcompensated for his wrongdoings, and in this case, Andy had no idea what he'd do to Patrick.

Everything that was going on behind the scenes, concealed by the metaphorical partition between the famous pair of the four of them and the others, manifested itself when Pete came to Andy on a rainy Saturday morning the day after their last show. Patrick and Joe were nowhere to be found, but that was common now that Pete and Patrick couldn't stand each other.

"Andy, I fucked up. I...I...," Pete trailed off, biting his lip.

"It's fine, Pete. Whatever you did, you know Patrick has a short fuse, he'll get over it soon."

Pete looked up at Andy with glossy eyes. He looked genuinely scared. "I kissed him. On the mouth."

Andy was not expecting that. But then, once he thought about it, it all started making sense. He wondered how he hadn't seen it before, and then he wondered what Patrick was telling Joe right now. "What happened _exactly_?"

"We were yelling at each other, and he was saying that I'm an asshole and I told him it's not my fault he's always scared of being a fucking human being and he said that I should just let him live because I don't understand no matter how hard I try and then he was crying and so I kissed him."

"And after that..?"

Pete sucked in a shaky breath. "I don't know, he...I kind of freaked out, and he just kind of stared at me for a second and then he ran off the bus."

"He's just a kid, Pete. He's scared. You just have to give him time," Andy said, placing his hand on Pete's shoulder. The guy looked like he was about to cry. "Listen, man, if you just give him some space he'll get over it. Trust me."

Pete bit back a sob as tears started rolling down his cheeks. "I love him, Andy, and he doesn't fucking get that. I'm not messing around, fuck, why am I so stupid?"

"You didn't do—"

"I made him think I was messing around. I made him think I could never be good enough. And...And I know that I'm not. I know that he's too good for me, okay? But _he_ wasn't supposed to know that. He wasn't supposed to know," a choked sob interrupted him, "he wasn't supposed to know how lost I am without him."

Andy didn't know what to say, so he just kind of started talking and hoped for the best. "Look, it's fine. He'll get it eventually. I'm sure he has to know you don't mess around when it comes to him. Hell, I could even tell that you were serious." Kind of a lie, but then again it really wasn't, since Andy knew he was definitely in love with _someone_. "He'll come around, Pete."

Long story short, he didn't come around, and a heartbroken Pete was forced to call it a day. The band was "on break," but as far as Andy was concerned, they weren't coming back any time soon.

⋙⋙

Andy and Pete were still close, just like they always had been, so that meant he had to convince Pete multiple times that going to one of Patrick's shows for his solo tour wasn't weird.

"I don't know, I just feel like he hates me now. The last time I saw him I kissed him, Andy. I fucking...I don't know."

Sighing, Andy shrugged. "Look, I don't really care what you do. As long as you're happy. But know that Patrick doesn't hate you, and he probably misses you. I know I'd miss my best friend if he deserted me."

Pete frowned. "The whole reason I wanted Bebe Rexha instead of some dude for Black Cards was because I didn't want Patrick to think I'm trying to replace him. He's irreplaceable. I've never trusted anyone else to sing what I write at my most vulnerable, you know what I mean? The songs I wrote for him—what I did with Fall Out Boy—that was because I knew he could be the paint to my canvas. He could make sense of all the shit buzzing around in my head. No one else can do that."

"I know, Pete. You two have always just, clicked, I guess."

"I think that's why I feel the way I do. Like, you know when you're on a plane and you're terrified the whole time because you feel like you could crash, but then you get off and you're like _Why was I so scared?_ I feel like that's what being in love with him is. I'm terrified now, but maybe, just maybe it'll all be right in the end. I mean, there's always the chance that it crashes. There will always be that possibility."

"Well," Andy started, "the chances of a plane crash are slim."

"Yeah, but in this case, I don't really know what the crash is."

He ended up not going to the show.

Pete made Andy come over when he determined it was time to call Patrick for the first time in three years. They had texted occasionally, sure, but a phone call was on a whole other level. "I need you there. Don't say anything, just be here for me. He can't know I'm not alone."

Before Pete dialed the number, he took in a shaky breath and stared at Andy. "What?"

"Do you remember how we did Get Busy Living? When Patrick and I went in at the same time and did the whole line exchange thing? The reason that I wanted to do that was so I could pretend, even if for a few short minutes, that maybe we were the same, and that maybe instead of making him sing all of my thoughts and feelings and the shit that's made a home underneath my skin, I was putting everything he felt about me out there, too. That's why I wrote Folie from his point of view, because I wanted to pretend that he was in love with me and that I could change anything between us. Because I'm scared that pretending is the only thing I'm ever gonna' get." Andy just blinked at him, wondering how this information was relevant. "Just thought you should know since, uh, since this means we're gonna' have to compromise." Andy wasn't sure what that meant, but then again he was never entirely sure what Pete was talking about. The moment he thought he had it figured out, Pete was doing something unpredictable and completely out of character once again. Maybe that was Pete's character: out.

So Andy sat at the table across from Pete, and they both stared at the phone on speaker in between them as it rang. After a long time, an excruciating amount of time, the ringing stopped. "Pete?" asked a quiet voice.

He looked shocked, surprised that Patrick would even pick up. "Hey, 'Trick. What, uh, what're you up to?"

"Oh, not much. You know, just...hanging out." Patrick's voice sounded different. A lot different. He sounded more confident, like he had found his grounding and finally decided to anchor his voice to the Earth instead of letting it nervously float into the clouds. "What's up with you?"

"Nothing really. I just—" Pete paused, looking at Andy with pleading eyes. Andy just nodded at the phone like he was saying _Speak, you ignorant coward,_ and then Pete cleared his throat. "I just wanted to check in."

A little more conversation ensued, and while it was kind of awkward, Andy knew that they were both thinking about the same thing, the same event, the same exact thoughts as each other because they were telepathically linked somehow. "So, I was just, you know, thinking...," Pete said, trailing off.

"That's new."

Pete smiled, glad the ice was broken. "Shut up. But I was thinking that maybe, you know. Maybe we could try again?"

Patrick was silent for a good amount of time. By Andy's impeccable timing skills (and the ability to look at a watch), he was able to determine that Patrick didn't speak for sixteen seconds. That might not seem like long, but really think about it. Sit in silence for sixteen seconds and try to understand how terrified Pete must have been in that moment.

"Yeah, that sounds good to me. I've been talking with Joe."

"Oh, you...you have." Andy saw Pete's disappointment manifest itself through a nervous swallow. "That's good." Pete had obviously been hoping that if Patrick would talk to anyone, it would be him.

"We've written some stuff. I'm assuming you have, too."

"A lot, actually. A lot's been on my mind."

Patrick didn't say anything for a second. "I'm sorry to hear about the divorce. I wanted to reach out to you, back when it happened, but it seemed like it was too soon."

Andy knew Pete would have loved to hear from Patrick in that hard time. He was the only person that could have made it all better. Of course, Pete just said, "Yeah, it would have been too soon."

A few seconds of silence, then Patrick lowered his voice to almost a whisper. "Pete, I've missed you so much."

"I missed you more, Lunchbox."

⋙⋙

The first time they all met up again was in secret, very secret, CIA top-level shit (imagine 2 Chainz leaking a government secret). Pete and Patrick hugged each other like reunited lovers in a cliche beach movie. Patrick was much more mature than the last time Andy saw him, so now it was Pete's turn to cry. He was smiling and staring at Patrick like he couldn't believe he was actually there.

And, you see, the thing about the end of the hiatus was that Andy now had a front row seat to the Pete and Patrick show once again. He was fine with that, but Joe seemed a little annoyed ("Can we, like, say something or is that like waking a sleepwalker?" and "How dumb are they? Can't they see what we see?" Andy just told him to shut up and wait).

So the night after the last show of their 'reunion/we never fucking broke up' tour, everybody decided to go out for drinks. Andy just sipped his ice water and rolled his eyes at Patrick as the guy downed four shots of whiskey in seven seconds flat. Pete looked on in impressed amusement, grinning at his best friend.

Needless to say, Pete had to carry Patrick home. ("He's so tiny and cute! Aw, look at him sleep. He's so light now, and so thin, and he looks cute either way but holy fuckin' shit!")

As Joe, Andy and Pete left everyone else behind at the bar to walk down the desolate streets in search of a cab or something, Joe stumbled around while Pete was barely tipsy from the same amount of alcohol. Andy just sighed. Dumb, dumb, stupid, fucking stupid. Pete was gonna ruin his genius brain if he kept drinking so much.

Pete suddenly stopped under a street lamp, and Andy had to duck under Patrick's legs as Pete spun around. Patrick was passed out, arms wrapped around Pete's neck as the older man carried him bridal style (god, Andy fucking hated that phrase). "Guys, wait a second." And for god knows what reason, Pete gently placed Patrick on the ground, letting the blonde's arms slip away from his neck. Pete took his fedora and dutifully placed it atop his own head before straddling the passed out man's hips.

"Pete, the fuck are you—"

"Sh," Pete hushed, cutting Andy off. "I don't know if he's breathing."

The redhead rolled his eyes for the thirtieth time that night. "He's not dead, you fucker." Pete ignored him, so Andy figured he should just ride out the storm.

Pete leaned down close to Patrick's face, the shell of his ear nearly grazing soft pink lips (Pete's description, not Andy's). The look of concentration on his face was almost funny, shit, it was fucking hilarious. "He's breathing. I'm 'a wake him up. Patrick! Pattycakes! 'Tricky! Lunchbox!" Pete shouted down at the unconscious man's face. Sighing, he went with one last attempt. "Pete Wentz is gonna' kiss you!"

Patrick's eyes fluttered open, face flushed pink. "Stop shouting, I heard you the first time."

"'Sup, li'l dude?"

"Why am I on the ground?"

Pete rolled off of him and wedged his arms under Patrick's thighs and back once again, using his suddenly incredible leg strength to pull both of them off the pavement.

"Holy shit, what the—Ah!" Patrick buried his face in the place Pete's neck and shoulder, squeezing his eyes shut and throwing his arms around Pete.

Giggling, Pete just spun around in the street, doing his own version of a dance as Patrick clung to him, grabbing his fedora and holding it tightly against his chest. Pete laughed and moved his arm so he could run his fingers through Patrick's exposed hair. "You're so cute."

Patrick just whimpered and snuggled closer to Pete's chest. "Shut up, Peter."

God, Andy had some fucking dumb friends.

On a completely different but entirely related note, Patrick had this laugh. Andy was positive that everyone who had ever watched any interaction between their band had heard it. Patrick's laugh was light but sincere and just the right volume to make you feel good about yourself because _Wow this guy thinks I'm funny_. But years ago, back when tensions weren't high either because Pete and Patrick fought or because they hadn't and were due for another one, Patrick had this laugh that seemed to be reserved for Pete. It never saw the light of day, and the only times Andy had ever heard him laugh like that were when Patrick thought he wasn't around. Now that Patrick was more comfortable with himself and generally more open about who he was as a human being, this laugh made its way into the streets and interviews and even shows sometimes, but just when Pete would say something mildly funny. Patrick would slap his knees or clap and close his eyes and roll down his sleeves to hide the tremble of his hands because saying "Snookie looks delicious" is so goddamn hilarious. Andy knew this laugh; it was the laugh of someone who carried such an adoration for someone else that they would risk a voice crack in the middle of a crowd for them.

It was the laugh of someone who was deeply in love.

⋙⋙

Then came American Beauty/American Psycho, and considering Pete's many years of studying advanced French, Andy figured that the use of _mon chérie_ , a masculine noun, was not an accident like Pete claimed it was. After years of hearing about "sleeping for the wrong team" and how "he tastes like you, only sweeter" (even if it was a movie quote) Andy knew that this was in no way an accident. He also knew that Patrick would brush it off and insist that it was an accident because "Pete said so himself," and the issue would be settled.

Then one day after a show, Andy walked in on Pete and Patrick playfully arguing about a lyric. "You obviously meant a four letter name, like, a swear word or something. That's what 'four letter name' means, Pete!"

"Hey, you can't tell me what I mean. Come on, Lunchbox, you know my—"

Patrick shoved Pete a little bit, not hard enough to hurt him. They were smiling. "Yeah, yeah, your name has four letters. But you wrote it, so I guess you're in love with yourself."

Pete shrugged. "Can you blame me?"

"Get a room, you guys," Joe said, walking onto the bus behind Andy, who shot him a look that basically said _Let them figure it out on their own._

As much as Andy loved watching this whole thing unfold, he wanted it to just happen already. He didn't know what he wanted to happen; just something. A kiss, an 'I love you,' a fucking marriage proposal, anything. Pete had told him time and time again that he was over Patrick, completely fine with their current, stable lives, but Andy saw right through him. Pete was as transparent as he was obnoxious (more transparent than Patrick's "porcelain skin. Look at him. If you get up close in the right light, you can see every vein, and when you touch him the place around your finger bursts with red and then flushes back out into white again." Andy wanted to gouge his eyeballs out when he and Joe came back from coffee when they had some extra time in the morning, and they found Pete all up in Patrick's personal space on the couch. He was tracing calculated lines, tracing veins, up and down Patrick's arm, dark golden skin against paper pale, while the younger man just boredly tapped away at the keys on his laptop with one hand. Pete was even more obvious than usual).

⋙⋙

It came pretty close to The Big Revelation when Mania happened, and suddenly all those years of Pete using Patrick as an analogy made sense. The Last Of The Real Ones was clearly pointed at him, as was pretty much every love song Pete had ever written. Well, almost, at least. "The last of a dying breed" was a clear reference to what Pete would call Patrick when they were younger, but by the way Patrick just nodded along and said it was "cool" when they finished mixing it, Andy figured he didn't remember. Pete didn't look disappointed, but the only time he was ever good at masking his emotions was when Patrick was around.

Now it was a few hours before they were supposed to play at Wrigley, and they were all hanging out on the bus. Patrick and Pete were sitting on the couch together while Andy sat with Joe. They were all over the place, with Andy and Pete occasionally talking across the conversation between Patrick and Joe, and then it would shift so that Joe was talking to Pete, and then it just turned into Joe leaving to take a nap while Patrick and Pete only paid attention to each other.

Andy just watched Pete act like an idiot, which was what he assumed could only be him trying to make Patrick laugh. It was working, but Pete really took it up to the next level when he stopped mid-sentence, glancing around the room as if searching for something.

"Hey, could you hold this for a second?" Pete asked, standing up and staring down at Patrick expectantly.

"Pete...This is just your hand," Patrick said dryly, blinking at Pete's outstretched hand.

Tilting his head, he said, "Yeah, and?"

With anyone else, anyone else at all, Patrick would have rolled his eyes, maybe even laughed and brushed it off as a harmless joke, but this was Pete. Of course Patrick would take it much differently than with anyone else. His cheeks flushed pink as he pulled his hat down to hide his face a little bit, and he looked down at the ground. "Um, okay," he said, voice quiet as he timidly took Pete's hand in his.

The older man pulled Patrick to his feet, tugging him around the bus and repeating, "I can't find it, where is it?" Andy just watched with an amused smile.

"Dude, what are you looking for?" Patrick asked for the hundredth time after this had gone on for half a minute.

Pete stopped dead in his tracks and spun around to face Patrick. "Oh my god, there it is!"

Patrick raised an eyebrow. "What?"

"My reason to live. I found you, thank god," Pete said, raising their intertwined hands and holding them against his chest. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

"Pete, you're literally three times the age of anyone that would think this was funny."

Not dropping his gaze, Pete just said, "It's not supposed to be funny."

Silence followed, and Andy felt like this was definitely his cue to leave. Neither Pete nor Patrick paid him any attention as he headed to his bunk, but as he was about to climb into his own, Joe's curtain flew open. "Psst, Andy, get in here," he whispered, pulling Andy into his bunk.

"What—"

"Shh, just listen." Andy shut up, and he was met with the sound of silence once again.

After a few more seconds, he finally heard Patrick's muffled voice. "Then what's it supposed to be?"

"Serious," replied Pete.

"Well, uh, thanks I guess."

"Yeah."

The only sounds that came after that were those of the door closing and someone sitting down on the couch. Andy assumed Pete left to go on another mopey emo walk (he may not look emo anymore, but he's definitely living it on the inside) and Patrick decided to sit and mull over what just happened.

"Patrick's the dumbest person ever, holy shit," Joe whispered.

Andy hummed. "I think they both are."

The morning after that, Andy woke to a strangely deserted bus. Typically, Pete was asleep at five and awake at six. It's funny how most people think that's a joking exaggeration.

But now it was nine in the morning and no one was awake. Andy pulled Pete's bunk curtain open only to find it empty. Maybe he would have been worried if they were still a tiny local band in Chicago, but now they were big and Pete was an adult and he knew what he was doing. Okay, well, Pete was an adult. The last part may not have been accurate. Regardless, Andy knew Pete wasn't dead in a ditch. Probably.

Andy yanked Patrick's curtain open to warn him of Pete's absence, since this could either mean he was hiding or getting high. But he was met with the sight of Pete himself, fast asleep with the blankets pulled up over his mouth as if his words would spill out in his sleep. Patrick was behind him, facing the wall and away from Pete. Andy just shut the curtain and sighed, wondering how fucking blind his friends were. So stupid; so dense.

During interviews and the likes, Pete would sometimes talk about how hard it is to live out of a suitcase because you're not tethered to anything. Nothing's holding you down; nothing's permanent. But Andy quickly realized that when you're on tour for a year, you become attached to the people. The only things that are permanent are the people. Instruments break, venues change, but the people you tour with are the people you're stuck with. On every single tour, Pete seemed to have tethered himself to Patrick, the only person he could hold onto without fearing the outcome.

Now Andy knew, knows, will always and forever know that Pete has trouble understanding that affectionate touches and kisses and shit mean different things to different people. Andy knows that Pete is an affectionate guy, and that although he no longer does it in public, he still touches Patrick as much as he used to, it's just that this time it's when the press doesn't see and Patrick is comfortable.

Andy also sees the way Pete looks at Patrick when he walks into the room: as if he is baffled by Patrick's immense talent and ever present way of being so alive without being obnoxious, as if he just can't believe this man exists.

It's also noteworthy that Andy knows Pete is shy, but not in the way Patrick is. Patrick is quiet and reserved in public because of his shyness, but Pete puts on a show and does exactly what everyone expects him to do and say and he writes so cryptically that when the kids decipher his words, they think they have it right, but it turns out that they haven't even scratched the surface, and he does it all because he's shy. He hides behind expectations and makes them a straightened version of reality, because actual reality might be more twisted than people think.

It wasn't until the night after Wrigley that Pete came to Andy, the only person in his bunk at the time, breathing so heavily that he was either having a stroke or a panic attack. Pete didn't say anything when he shoved Andy over and closed the curtain behind him as he climbed into the bunk. Andy had gotten used to the invasion of space from not only Pete but also Joe sometimes, but for different reasons. Pete wanted to talk about PeteandPatrick while Joe wanted to complain about how dense PeteandPatrick were.

"I don't know what's wrong with me," Pete said quietly.

Andy just sighed. "You keep saying that you're over him. Are you really?"

"I don't know," he said even quieter, almost shyly. Patrick-shy, not Pete-shy.

"Well, how do you feel?"

Pete drew in a breath. "Earlier tonight, when it was quiet between songs, I was thinking about how I wish it could be like it was before when I could touch him onstage, and I thought I heard you playing something, and I was like, 'Hey, that's new. It's also really fucking loud, and why is he playing right now, and why is it just the bass drum over and over again?' And then I realized it wasn't the drums, it was my own fucking heart about to beat out of my chest because I kept thinking about him and what it was like to touch him and kiss him and how I miss that. And, you know clothes and how they're important for human survival or whatever, like to keep warm and avoid disease and embarrassment, right? Well I hate his clothes. They're in my way. I want them off."

Andy chuckled a little, trying not to laugh too loud just in case someone could hear. "Yeah, you got it bad. And to think, even after all this time, huh?"

Squeezing his eyes shut, Pete groaned. "I'm so fucking in love with him that it hurts."

"You can talk to me about it, you know."

"I know, I know. I just don't want to weird you out or anything. Some of the thoughts I've had are...not something my mother would want to hear."

Andy scoffed. "Last time I checked, I'm not your mom. Tell me the dirtiest thing you've ever thought about him. We can just get it out of the way now, and maybe it'll be weird, but that'll just make everything else less weird."

"You really want to hear the dirtiest thing I've ever thought?"

"Worst of the worst."

Pete thought for a little while, seeming to have difficulty deciding what was worse than something else. "Okay, I got it. Don't get weird about it though."

"Scout's honor. Spare no details."

"Sometimes, I wonder what it would be like to have him tie me down on the bed, and yeah I'd obviously love to fuck him, but I want to know what it would feel like to have the usual roles switched, you know? He could be like my own little sexy dominatrix, except he's a dude, so that'd make him my dominator I guess? I don't know, dominatrix sounds cooler."

Andy just laughed again. "That's the worst you could come up with?"

"Hey, Patrick's adorable and tiny and innocent and thinking about him like that gets weird if I let my fantasies get out of hand. But if you want to get really gross, I could talk about how I want him to come inside of me and make me—"

"Okay, okay, I get it. You've made your point. Just promise me one thing."

Pete nodded. "Anything."

"Don't do it on the bus, you horny dick." Andy shoved Pete out of his bunk, causing the latter to laugh so hard that everyone definitely heard, but they didn't ask.

Then in the weeks following that, Andy could see that Pete was itching to talk again, and Andy found that he was actually excited to hear what Pete had to say. Even though it seemed like everyone knew PeteandPatrick were in love except for Pete and Patrick, Andy understood that the stakes were high. If they were to be in a relationship, it could never get out. Ever. Not until the day one of them died, because they couldn't be 'the band with the gay guys,' they couldn't be the next big scandal, because people needed to pay attention to what they had to say to the world, not each other.

However, Andy wanted them to be happy. And if being together worked, then fine.

"Way back in the day," Pete began as soon as they were alone, "I would play this game where I'd try to make Patrick blush. I think I tried everything short of straight up fucking him. We made plans to see a movie once, and I bought him some flowers and told the cab driver that he was my boyfriend, and he was blushing so hard that I wanted to turn all the lights on in the theater to see it again. And I don't think I've ever told you this, told anyone really, but Patrick and I kissed once before. Before I screwed up that one day. I think we were taking a taxi back to the hotel, and I was drunk enough to be tipsy but remember everything, but I guess it wasn't the same for Patrick. If he does remember, he doesn't show it. Anyway, the driver asked where we were going, so Patrick and I gave him the address and we said it at the same time, so he started laughing and he was just so fucking cute that I kissed him, and he kissed back. I had him against the door, and his hands were in my hair and I just wanted to stay there forever, but then he pushed me away. I don't know why, but he shoved me off of him and said nothing for the rest of the ride. I still don't fucking know why."

Andy opened his mouth but just as soon closed it again, trying to find what words to say. He didn't want to straight up tell Pete that Patrick was so clearly, so obviously in love with him, that was something they had to figure out on their own, but Andy knew he had to say something encouraging. Luckily, Pete started talking again.

"Back in, like, 2014, I finally got him to come to a party with me. Granted, I had to let him bring Elisa, but she and Meagan went off to meet Charlie Puth before we were even through the door. Patrick just laughed and said we'd find them later, and I was kind of glad to have alone time with him. We got drunk and the next thing I knew, we were standing in the middle of the floor and everyone around us was grinding on each other and Meagan and Elisa weren't around so I just hung out with him until he was too tired to stand and then I took him home. And yeah, I know that it's wrong to be with Meagan and have Marvel and Saint and Bronx to think about, and to want to take him away from Elisa and his kids, but I can't help it. I've been consumed by nothing but love for him since the very moment we met, and even though my rose-colored glasses shattered a long time ago, I can still see myself with him. I'm out of the frying pan as far as the honeymoon phase goes, but now it's the world's biggest fire because I can't stand living without him anymore. You've got to help me."

All Andy could think to say was, "Okay." Then Pete went back home to his girlfriend and kids and safe, cushiony life.

So when barely an hour had gone by (the time had been filled with Andy wondering how he was supposed to help, exactly) and Patrick had shown up at his door, Andy was relieved at first. But then, as he opened the door and Patrick just stood there awkwardly biting his lip, he was beginning to feel terrified. As he invited Patrick in, he started to realize that this could be about them, that it was probably, certainly about PeteandPatrick. And when Patrick started talking and he couldn't seem to stop, even when he wanted to, Andy finally saw where he stood in all of this. Joe was an outsider, a spectator in the audience of this soap opera. That's what Andy had claimed to be, just an onlooker, but now he understood that he was directly in the middle of this mess. He was stuck in the very center, plucked from oblivion and spiraled down the funnel that landed him in between his longtime close friend and the kid he had watched grow from an awkward almost-adult into a true member of society. He was lost in a maze of two-way mirrors, hidden from both sides but simultaneously working arm-in-arm with them.

"Listen, I know this is weird," was what Patrick had started with as soon as he came through the door. "I know that we don't usually talk about stuff like this, that Joe is typically my go-to, but he would just make fun of me. I have nobody else. You won't judge me."

Andy gestured to the couch. "Sit. I'm making tofu-dogs, want one?" Patrick nodded thankfully.

"So, what's this all about?" Andy asked when he handed over a plate decorated with a perfectly stereotypical vegan dinner (you don't have many options that aren't stereotypes when you can only eat, like, four things).

Patrick drew in a shaky breath. "Something's been happening to me recently."

When he paused, seeming to reconsider his decision to talk about this, Andy prompted him with a, "Go on."

"I, um, god this is so hard to say." Patrick's laugh was short and breathy and nervous. "I think I'm in love with Pete."

Andy had imagined this moment for years. He had built up his acting skills, practicing his look of surprise in the mirror, maybe pretending to spit out his drink here and there for good measure. But even after all of that practice, he was coming up blank. So instead of faking surprise, Andy laughed. Patrick stared at him, a look of _What the hell are you doing_ crossing his face.

Placing a hand on his shoulder, Andy said, "Patrick, I know," between laughs.

"What? How? Does Pete know?" He bombarded Andy with a million more questions, and through it all he just kept laughing. This whole situation was so ridiculous, so outrageously impossible that Andy found it fucking hilarious.

When he finally calmed down, Andy just sighed and shook his head. "Patrick, don't worry, Pete doesn't know. And nobody had to tell me, I just knew."

"You could _tell_?"

"Patrick, I've known you for more than fifteen years. I could tell. So could Joe."

Frowning, Patrick said, "I never told Joe."

"He knows."

"No, I mean...Andy, I didn't figure it out until a few weeks ago. It's been consuming me from the inside out. It hasn't been that long; how did you know?"

Andy's grin turned into a look of confusion. "Patrick, I've seen the way you've looked at him for over a decade. Are you sure it's only been a few weeks?"

Patrick was silent for a second as he bit his lip and pulled his sleeves down like he always does when he's nervous. "I told myself I didn't. I denied it for so long. I'd tell myself that everyone wanted to spend the rest of their life with their best friend. I couldn't explain away the feelings, though. I couldn't justify wanting..."

"Wanting what?"

"When he kissed me for real, twice, I told myself that it's because he's Pete and it didn't mean anything and that's why I'd shove him away every time, because I couldn't stand thinking that he didn't know what he was doing to me. I couldn't stand it not being real."

Andy tried not to smile. This was perfect, and Patrick just couldn't see that. This was the perfect situation, thank god. "Do you know for sure that it wasn't real?"

"What?"

"How do you know it wasn't real?"

Patrick looked away. "He's Pete. I could never tell what was real and what was fake with him."

"You could always ask."

"Are you _insane_? How would I ask that? 'Hey, by the way, are you in love with me? Because I'm head over heels for you, just wondering.' You're supposed to help me fall _out_ of love with him. I have a family."

"Listen, Patrick, I don't have much experience with falling out of love with your soulmate." Andy and Meredith were good, they were great, they were perfect for each other. They were soulmates, and they were allowed to be together because he was a man and she was a woman and she wasn't in the band so it wouldn't come crashing down on them in the backfire. Andy was so in love with her that he couldn't imagine wanting to be anything but in love. "I really don't think that's the way to go here."

"Well I can't just _ask_ him."

Andy shrugged. "You got a better idea?"

"I could..." Patrick paused. "I could do something."

"Perfect, you've got it all figured out."

Patrick glared at him. "I was going to say I could do something really out of character, like some huge gesture or something, and then if he questions it I'll say it's payback for all the years of torture, but if he likes it then I'll know."

"Okay, well, what are you going to do?"

"Maybe I could start small. Like, say something in an interview, and then I can move on to bigger things."

"Yeah, that...actually might work."

So at the very next interview they did, Andy was glad all four of them were present. Patrick made a point to sit next to Pete on the couch they were provided. The interview was going well, as they usually do, but then they were asked a question that gets brought up a lot. "Patrick, why is it that Pete is the frontman? Does it ever bother you that he gets all the attention?"

Typically, this is when he would let Pete jump in and rescue him, but Andy knew that Patrick wouldn't have that happen this time. "Well, it just helps when the face of your band is hot."

Nudging Patrick's shoulder, Pete smirked. "Hey, you're the hot one."

"Not as much as you," Patrick said, face completely serious as he and Pete stared at each other.

Now, it isn't very often that Pete Wentz is rendered speechless. But as his smirk dropped into wide eyes and a look of amazement, the interviewer took no notice and moved on to asking Andy what it was like to be the only straightedge in the band. When he was done answering the question, he looked over to see that Pete and Patrick were no longer looking at each other, but Pete was staring down at his hands with a faint, timid smile as Patrick seemed completely unfazed.

Patrick drove everybody home that day, and Pete sat shotgun. Joe put in his ear buds in and Andy closed his eyes for a brief second, and he sincerely didn't mean to do this, but he found himself pretending to be asleep when Pete turned around to see if anyone was listening.

"Patrick," he said in a hushed voice.

"Yeah?"

Andy's eyes were closed, but he could practically see their faces. Pete was deeply conflicted and Patrick was acting oblivious. That was how it usually worked, anyway.

Pete fumbled for the right words. "Listen, today, if you were trying to, if you were proving a point or getting back at me or something, I didn't mean to..." He sucked in a breath. "I never wanted to make you uncomfortable. You know, when I'd say things about you or hang off of you during shows."

"Then why'd you do it?"

"I just—" Pete cut himself off mid-sentence. "I wanted to touch you. All I wanted was to be close to you."

Andy could hear the smile in Patrick's voice as he said, "It never made me uncomfortable. It was...endearing."

"In what way?"

"The only way."

It was silent the whole rest of the way home. When they pulled up in front of Joe's house, the guitarist pulled his earbuds out. Andy thought about how he'd have to analyze this conversation with him after explaining what happened, but as Joe went to close the door, he held up his phone to reveal that the earbuds weren't plugged in. Pete and Patrick didn't see. With a wink, Joe closed the door and headed into his house.

Patrick had this habit of forgetting that other people besides Pete could see him. It was kind of cute, though, according to the bassist. Every time Patrick would say something funny, it was always just to make Pete laugh. When he did laugh, Patrick's smile would widen into a beaming grin because he was so proud of himself, and he'd pull down his sleeves like he always does, and he'd get all shy because he knew he'd blush if anyone said anything to him about it. Pete knew that everyone could see him all the time, which is why he did the most outrageous things when he was in the brightest spotlight.

That's why it didn't really surprise Andy when at the very next show, Pete reverted back to his old ways, coming up next to Patrick and kissing him on the neck for all the world to see. This hadn't happened in years, nearly a decade, so Patrick was startled. He didn't screw up, but when the show was over, he paced in the dressing room like a madman.

"Pete, you know we don't do that anymore."

Pete shrugged. "And I think we should."

Patrick threw his arms up in distress. "I'm married, Pete! Don't you think that it's kind of weird?"

"It never bothered you before."

"Because I didn't have a wife and kids before."

Pete raised an eyebrow. "Wait, you...You would have considered all that shit I did cheating?"

"Well, yeah, duh."

"That implies that it meant something, though."

They both stood in a stalemate now. Patrick crossed his arms. "It didn't, though. Did it?"

"No, it didn't. Don't be crazy."

"It didn't mean anything," Patrick repeated, his eyes glazed over a little.

Pete's mischievous smirk was back. "So if it doesn't mean anything, why are you upset?"

"I—" Patrick began, defiantly jabbing a finger into Pete's chest. But then his words seemed to escape him. "I don't know."

And then, with Andy and Joe standing right there (quite awkwardly), Pete grabbed Patrick by the shoulders and went right in for his neck again. Patrick gasped a little as one hand flew up to grip Pete's wrist and the other entangled itself in his hair. Patrick cast nervous glances and a lip bite toward Andy and Joe. "Pete," he squeaked breathlessly. "What are you doing?"

Pulling away, Pete posed the question, "Did that mean anything to you?"

Patrick said nothing. He just looked terrified.

"Because if it didn't, _since_ it didn't, you shouldn't be upset with me."

Patrick just stared at Pete with wide eyes. He was still holding Pete's wrist, so he shoved the older man away and stomped out of the dressing room. Pete looked at Andy and Joe for a second before heading after Patrick, and Joe started to follow, but Andy stopped him.

"We have to let them talk in private. If they want to tell us what happens, they will. I'm assuming Patrick's been talking to you."

Joe frowned. "Yeah, but he's trying to make it seem like he has no part in it. The way he explains everything is, like, as if he doesn't provoke Pete. Back when they'd do this all the time, he'd come to me and say, 'Pete keeps kissing me and I don't know why. I know he's just messing around, but why me?' as if he didn't want him to."

"Pete just keeps straight-up telling me he's in love with Patrick." Andy wanted to keep the whole _Patrick came to me and not you when he wanted to talk about Pete_ thing to himself.

They no longer used one tour bus for all four of them, so right now the split was Andy and Patrick in one bus and Joe and Pete in the other. This proved to be the best arrangement in Andy's favor, because one night while the buses were still parked, Pete snuck onto Andy and Patrick's. Andy was over by the bunks when he heard their muffled voices.

"Pete," Patrick groaned. "Stop, somebody's gonna' see you."

"Why do you care? It doesn't mean anything, right?"

"Just because it doesn't mean anything doesn't make it less weird. That makes it _more_ weird, actually."

Andy pressed his ear to the door separating the bunks and the main room. He had to be the angel on Joe's shoulder when he wanted to snoop, but now Andy was just too curious to ignore this.

A little squeak came from what he assumed was Patrick. "Stop, Pete, I'm serious."

Sounding out of breath, Pete said, "Why do you want me to stop? Huh, Patrick? Why?"

"Because it's wrong. We both have families, and just because we're on tour and this doesn't mean anything doesn't make it okay."

"That's the only reason?"

A few seconds of silence, and then Patrick said, "And if you don't, you know...You really shouldn't tease me like this. I don't, I don't want..."

"You consider this teasing? I could tease you a whole lot more than this."

"Please don't."

Pete lowered his voice. "Listen, Patrick, I've known you for almost twenty years. If you were really mad at me you'd have hit me or shoved me by now." More silence. "You miss it too, don't you?"

Patrick finally spoke. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Patrick, please. I need you."

"If the only reason you're doing this to me is because you're lonely, you can go fuck yourself. I'm not gonna' be a rebound for someone who's still in a relationship."

The sound of the door closing.

Andy burst into the main room and pointedly glared at Pete. "What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"What? What did I do _this_ time?"

Rolling his eyes, Andy pointed at the door. "You're such an asshole, and you know it, but you don't do anything about it. You have to see it from his perspective. What if, hypothetically, he _is_ in love with you? You've spent days telling him that it means nothing, that he means nothing to you. Which, by the way, is a lie. And now you're acting like you're using him, and he doesn't want to be anywhere near you if you just use him."

Pete raised his voice to a shout. "I don't get why you care so much! He just told me to go fuck myself and you're defending him!"

"Because you're _wrong_!" Pete was silent, staring at Andy like he had short circuited. "You're wrong in this situation, Pete."

"Yeah, well—" He cut himself off. "Yeah, well, you're right. I'm sorry."

Patrick didn't come back to the bus, so Pete ended up staying with Andy. At around midnight, Pete's phone lit up. He stared down at whatever notification he had just received, and then his fingers started moving faster than Andy had ever seen.

"Come here, come here!" Pete said, frantically waving him over.

Sitting next to Pete on the couch, Andy asked, "What happened? Did he text you?"

"No. He Tweeted."

 _Questions?_ was the single word under Patrick's Twitter handle, but it already had thousands of likes, retweets and replies.

"You turned his notifications on?"

Pete frowned. "Yeah...I'm gonna' ask something. Oh! I got it." He tapped away at the keyboard and sent the Tweet before Andy could tell him not to.

 _Do you miss me?_ it read. Likes and retweets started rolling in immediately.

While they waited for a response, Pete looked through the other replies. His eyes went wide as he looked at one that Patrick responded to.

_@asealia: What do you think of this?_

_https://www.pinterest.com/pin/338544096973344667/?lp=true_

Pete was literally shaking. The light hitting his phone screen was moving all over the place because of how badly his hands were trembling.

Mixed in with all the _ACILIA NOs_ and _This is canceled_ s was the top reply, Patrick's:

_Huh, I've never seen this. It was probably a coincidence, but if it wasn't then I guess I'm just too delicious to ignore :P_

Andy watched Pete press the little heart buttons below both Tweets. Pete was taking this whole thing a little too seriously, calculating his interactions with the post as perfectly as he could, crafting a message from what he chose to like and retweet alone. It was just Twitter.

 _Patrick Stump replied to your Tweet_.

Pete's finger tapped the notification before Andy's brain could process the information he had read.

_You mean during the 6.0193 minutes of the year you actually leave me alone? Every second._

People started freaking out, likes and retweets and strings of random letters and emojis coming in from all directions. Pete stood up and threw his phone on the couch, hands shaking like he was going to have a panic attack.

"He's just saying that. He doesn't want people to know something's wrong. He doesn't mean it," Pete said, mostly to himself.

Now, Andy wished that he could offer some consolation. He wished that he could say, 'No, Patrick's in love with you. He misses you.' But he can't, because that would be spilling the secret, and also because he would be half wrong.

While Pete knew Patrick better than anyone else, Andy knew him well enough to see that the sarcasm was the main thing Patrick wanted Pete to focus on. While it seemed like cute banter to fans, it was Patrick saying, 'You never let me live my life, so fuck off before I do something bad.'

So when they went to bed that night, Pete slept (laid awake all night) in Patrick's bunk and held the clothes he left on the bus to his chest because "they smell like him and I just want him to be here."

It was three in the morning when Andy got the call.

Patrick's shaky voice wasted no time in whispering, "I don't know what to do. You have to help me. People keep showing me things that Pete has said about me and he's provoking them and I don't know what I'm supposed to say because I want to be mad but I won't let myself hate him."

"Listen, Patrick, he knows that you're upset. But you don't have to hate him. The whole point of love or even friendship is to accept someone for all their perfections and flaws, and I think that you've already done that. You forgave him the moment he fucked up, and while that can be concerning to you it's a good thing in this case because it lets you work through whatever this is."

Patrick was silent for a moment. "I don't think I've ever told anyone this, but a long time ago, back in the days of Cork Tree, we were doing this thing for Fuse. You were there, remember? It was at Pete's house, and I got there at the same time as his mom, so I helped her carry in the groceries. But while we were out there, she stopped me and said, 'My boy thinks the world of you. His father and I love you like you're one of our very own, and I want you to know that we trust you to protect him. I know, it's a lot of pressure for me to say this, but you saved his life. I really think that you're saving him. You're not just a friend to him; you're everything.' I mean, I'm just paraphrasing because I don't remember everything she said word for word, but that was basically it. I think that's when I knew I was in way over my head."

Andy smiled. "I think you need to ask him."

"Ask him what?"

"Ask him if he's in love with you."

Patrick just spluttered out a bunch of unintelligible noises. "Are you fucking out of your _mind_? I can't do that!" he whisper-shouted.

"Yes, you can, and as Pete's other best friend, I think it would be a good conversation for both of you."

"Wait, Andy, you're not saying—"

"I'm not saying anything. Just that it would remove a lot of tension. I'm assuming that Pete told you we're all hanging out at my place this weekend?"

"Yeah."

"Just do it then."

Patrick thought about it for a second. "Fine, but only because I trust you. I swear to god, Andy, if this destroys my life..."

One of the big differences between Pete and Patrick that Andy has noticed is how they talk. Patrick has always been awkward, both in speech and the general vibe he carries. When Patrick talks, you know that he's still figuring out how to say certain things, even after thirty years of doing it. You can tell that he doesn't want to let the conversation die, so he fumbles for words (mostly "you know") and grasps at the first thought that comes to his mind after a two second pause. That's not a bad thing; Pete has told Andy that he finds it adorable.

But when Pete talks, he has a set direction. He knows what he's going to say, and it's all calculated on the spot. He's always been so much more articulate than anyone else in the band or even in Andy's contact list. Pete can answer a question within milliseconds with the most well thought-out response the world has ever seen, but he has so much to say that you can actually hear him trying to push the words out all at once, and then he has to backtrack and pause for a second to line it all up again (take a shot every time he says "uh") and it's all because no matter what question you ask him he has most certainly already asked himself the same thing at four in the morning when he was twenty-five. But nothing could prepare Pete for what Patrick asked him at Andy's house on Saturday.

"Are you in love with me?"

Pete just stared at him with a blank expression. Patrick looked nervous, almost like he just asked the most popular girl in school to prom. Pete didn't blink, didn't move, didn't show any signs of actually being alive until he finally spoke. "What?"

"Are you in love with me?" Patrick repeated, more confident this time.

Glancing at Andy and Joe, Pete bit his lip. "I don't know what you're...This feels like a conversation we should have _alone_."

"No. I'm done letting you call the shots and control where this whole mess is heading. You're going to tell me right now, and you're going to tell me the truth."

Joe's jaw had dropped at some point, and it remained there for a while.

Pete scrambled his way through the next sentence, nervously glancing at Andy and Joe every three seconds. "Well, you know, I just. I mean, it depends on what you, like, count as...I don't know what you—I don't know what you think I'm, like, insinuating, but. I think you, um, I..."

"Give me a straight answer." Patrick was deadly serious, staring at Pete like this was all completely normal.

"There's no...There's no straight way to explain how I feel about you." Slowly but surely, Pete was regaining his (un)usual composure.

Patrick stepped closer. "Then explain it the gay way."

Pete gulped. "Okay, uh, well. When I think about you I feel all fuzzy inside like they say in the movies. I used to think that was fake, but when I met you I found out that it's definitely real. And when I look at you, my face gets all hot and my chest constricts like my heart is straining to get to you. When I touch you it's like you set off something in my whole body, if you could set thunder on fire, like lightning but worse, or better, I guess. And when I kiss you, _kissed_ you, past tense, it felt like the world was ending and the only thing left was you, but you keep my world spinning so it was fine if everything burned down because you would be there and you were all I needed. When I think about how much I want you, how much I need every part of you, I feel this hunger rooted deep in my soul, this hunger to take you and run away forever and never come back because I'm so fucking in love with you that acknowledging it hurts. Physical pain, Patrick. _Physical pain_ is the result of how much I love you. I can't even describe to you how good it feels to make you laugh and smile and you brighten my day, you brighten my night, you turn my whole universe into the sun, and I'm just a full moon and sometimes I feel like I'm burning up inside of the hot star-world you shove me into, but if I burn to death then I'll go out still in love."

Andy just stared at them, absolutely dumbfounded that they actually did it. Patrick's hand flew up to cover his mouth and hold in the quiet sounds that came with tears lining his eyelashes like chains. Before anyone could say anything else, Patrick was gone, probably speeding down the street in his car.

Pete fell back onto the couch, almost like he was too shocked to stand. "I can't believe I just..."

Joe rushed to the door. "I'll go after him."

Sitting down beside Pete, Andy wrapped a protective arm around him. Pete buried his face in his hands, whispering, "He doesn't love me. Of course he doesn't."

Andy knew the truth. He knew that Patrick did truly feel the same, but he just couldn't handle a declaration of love when he knew it was wrong to want it. He had wanted Pete to break his heart, but that just wasn't in the cards. It was never an option, and Andy knew that Patrick understood that from the moment he realized he was in love with Pete.

"Pete, it'll be fine. This isn't like before; he's going to come back."

"But what if he doesn't? What if now he hates me because he realizes that all these years I've been in love with him and he thinks it's creepy?"

Andy knew he had to say something, do something that'll keep Pete afloat, because he knew that if Pete believed even for a second that Patrick wanted to be anywhere but with him, he would retreat back into that dark space that only Patrick could bring him out of. It happened before; they were times that Andy so thoughtfully skipped over in this recollection of the PeteandPatrick story. They were times that no one talked about.

"Pete, he's just afraid, okay? He's scared because you both have lives and families to think about. He doesn't know what to do."

"And how do you know that, huh? Unless he's been talking to you about this, I don't think you can say that," Pete said angrily, staring up at Andy from the couch. When Andy said nothing, Pete's eyes went wide. "Wait, has he been talking to you?"

Andy shrugged nervously. "Uh, no, definitely not."

"Oh my god he's been talking to you!" Pete stood up. "What's he been saying? Andy, come on, you have to tell me!"

"I can't, okay? I'm not going to tell you anything until you talk to Patrick yourself."

Pete smiled. "You wouldn't tell me to do that unless he loves me back. Andy, does he love me back?"

Andy just said nothing. Pete's smile faltered.

"Come on, please tell me something. I don't know what silence means."

Silence.

"Fuck it, Andy, we're going after them. Get in the car."

So Andy hopped into the passenger seat beside Pete, and they took off down the street in the direction that Patrick and Joe probably went. Of course, they couldn't be sure where the other pair had gone, so after about twenty minutes Pete began to lose hope.

"I don't even know what I'm gonna' say to him. There's just no point."

As Pete sighed and looked for a place to turn around, Andy placed a hand on his shoulder. "Pete, we can't give up yet. You need to have faith that—holy shit that's his car!" Andy pointed to the side of the otherwise empty road, and sure enough, two empty cars sat there as their drivers had some kind of argument outside, arms and hands flying as they spoke.

Pulling over, Pete jumped out of the car and Andy followed behind, both men sprinting toward Patrick and Joe. "Patrick, come on, man!"

Patrick froze as he watched Pete jog up to stand in front of him. "What the hell are you doing—"

"I want to explain."

"There's nothing for you to explain. I'm not a fucking joke, Pete. You can't expect me to find this funny."

"Do I look like I'm laughing?"

Patrick stared up at the tattooed man, chewing on his lip. "You really do feel that way? You're not just fucking with me?" he asked so quietly that it was almost hard to hear.

Pete looked stunned. "Why would I...Patrick, you've known, you've had to know for years that what I do to, with, _for_ you is not my normal behavior. I don't fuck around when it comes to you. What did you think all that meant?"

Patrick said nothing, just bit his lip and stared at the ground.

"Fine. I guess it's my turn now." Pete drew in a nervous breath. "Are you in love with me?" After giving Patrick enough time to look up at him, Pete said, "Because if the answer is no," Patrick's gaze flickered to Joe for a second, "could I change your mind?"

Patrick mumbled something so quietly that no one understood. Upon looking up, he realized that nobody could hear him, so he just gently laid his hand on Pete's shoulder and held his face with the other. "I said," he leaned in closer, "that you don't have to." And then their lips were moving together like the synced motions of bows on violins, and it was kind of weird because Andy and Joe were just awkwardly standing there while their best friends made out with each other, but ultimately it was sweet and Andy was relieved.

Pete stepped back and pulled a little box out of his pocket, and the first thing Andy thought was that it's a little too early for marriage proposals, but then Pete was opening the box to reveal a little slip of paper. "Do you remember giving this to me for Christmas in 2006?"

Patrick just looked awed. "You still have that?"

"I still have a lot of things," Pete said, as if that provided an explanation. "In this little note you told me that you would always be my best friend no matter what happens, that you'd always stick by my side and that you love me as much as I love you but it's hard for you to show that sometimes. Is that still true?"

"I love you, Pete," was the only thing Patrick needed to say. This seventeen year angst fest was over, and it had a happy ending. 

Well, mostly.

When Pete broke up with Meagan, they made it a public affair, and the press got to questioning the motives and talking about a 'custody battle' that didn't even exist yet. Pete was sad to see his neatly carved out life fizzle out so spectacularly, like rain in the middle of a fireworks display, but it was for the best interest of everyone involved.

Patrick's divorce a few months later (to avoid suspicion) was much quieter, much harder on the band as a whole and really took a toll on Patrick's mental health. Being with Elisa was all he had known for years, and he was attached to that atomic family life he had built up. His kids were hurt and confused but they were young so they couldn't really understand.

Neither Pete nor Patrick explained the real reason for the breakups to their exes.

But eventually half a year had gone by and Andy was still unclear as to whether Pete and Patrick were dating. They were no longer touring, so according to Pete they were "taking things slow." However, to Pete, "taking things slow" could mean getting married, moving in together and adopting six kids within four months. Apparently, though, Patrick told Joe that they were truly going slow and not rushing anything, and Andy trusted Patrick's judgment more than Pete's, so they seemed to be in a good place.

Somewhere along the lines, things appeared to get serious. Pete and Andy were on a weekend road trip in August of 2019, and Pete made a quick stop at a gas station. They both went into the convenience store because Andy wanted a snack (the only vegan thing he could find was an Aloha Bar) and Pete said he had to get "some stuff." When he went up to the register, Pete threw a box of condoms and some lube on the counter and winked at Andy, who tried not to be disgusted as he pretended not to know Pete. He had said multiple times before that he didn't like dicks, but Andy figured that sentiment didn't extend to Patrick.

Hardly any of Pete's sentiments _weren't_ defied by Patrick, but that's how they liked it.

⋙⋙

A year or two or something later, they were at their final show in California on the North American tour for their eighth studio album. At the very end, Pete walked up to Patrick's mic, and by the looks on their faces Andy could tell they had talked about this. Hell, the whole band had talked, had _been_ talking about this for months.

"This man is my sweet little cabbage, and nothing can take him away from me, and I'm gonna' spare you guys the bullshit and tell you all to put this on YouTube like you do: I'm in love with Patrick Stump."

The crowd went insane as the lights went down and the band rushed offstage to their buses. It was hell trying to get out of the lot, and even at the airport both in LA and Chicago. Everyone had seen, everyone knew, and Andy wasn't sure what was going to happen but Patrick and Pete disappeared at some point within the next week, and nobody heard from them for a month.

Andy once said that if Pete and Patrick were to be in a relationship, it could never see the light of day. People would solely focus on the two of them being together instead of what they had to say, and they'd pick apart every word in every line in every song to twist it in some way that meant _Pete Wentz is in love with Patrick Stump._

Now, however, he realizes that people were already doing that, and they'd get it wrong. They'd miss the message because they were busy looking for something that wasn't there (or, sometimes, something that was actually there). Now that Pete and Patrick were public, Andy saw that this could only be good. People would have no need to search for things that weren't there, because now they would know the truth behind what was an actual reference to their relationship and what made no sense.

When they came back, Pete told Andy they had sorted out a lot of shit in this cabin up in Montana. Apparently they decided that the best way to continue the band was to carry on as per usual, as if nothing had changed. After all, the only thing that was different was that they knew something everyone had kind of already known for a long time.

Pete had always been asked about how he and Patrick work. During interviews, the mood would shift and you could tell that this was a serious topic, a heavy one, one that Pete cared about. The description of PeteandPatrick had always been handled with fragility, as if it was a baby bird being nursed into healthy captivity. Pete was protective of their relationship, always being sure to choose the correct wording, always thinking about it. But he would also make sure to include the disclaimer: no one had ever gotten it right. Not even them. Nobody truly knew the nature of their relationship, just that it worked.

Now, Andy was beginning to understand that nobody was ever going to get it right. Not even the most articulate and well-spoken person in the books, not even the stuttering, flustered mess that said exactly what he thought if it meant avoiding awkward silences, nobody. But he also understood that nobody _had_ to get it right, because it worked, and they were together.

Hey, maybe that was the best way to describe Pete Wentz and Patrick Stump. They were together.

And everyone was happy.

_**Fin** _

_My favorite thing about Patrick is..._

_"He's kinda my other half."_

_\- Pete Wentz, 2018_

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Leave comment and a kudos if you enjoyed <3


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